


Heat

by thehandofathief



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehandofathief/pseuds/thehandofathief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Mombasa, Eames is thinking of Arthur.  Half way across the world, Arthur is thinking of Eames.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat

Tonight Eames is sitting outside on the terrace of the Casablanca club in Mombasa, sipping a cold beer. He’s leaning back in his chair and pressing the bottle against his neck while he lazily watches the boys from the beach strolling home, half naked and lean and smooth. It’s damn hot tonight, humid too and it’s got inside his skin. He could be lighting up with Yusef, sampling some new concoction and arguing and riffing with him until morning. But on a night like this, on a night so long and luscious and hot; he’d rather be thinking about Arthur. Some perversity makes Eames want to languish in the agony and the frustration of being so far away from the one he wants. 

Fuck, he wants someone. Does that mean he misses him, too? 

Eames notices the waiter in his too-tight-trousers and it’s a cliché but he enjoys licking his lips and leering a little. Yes, that’s better - safer, even - than burning for Arthur. He hasn’t seen him in months now but he can still remember the way Arthur’s chest heaved, how a smile formed on his lips as Eames braced his hands on his hips and they found their rhythm. He liked the way his hair curled slightly when it was damp with sweat. Everyone thought Arthur was so stuck up but Eames couldn't shake the image of him on his back with his eyes liquid bright and blown wide. 

Eames had to go before Arthur woke up, the time he’d stayed it had been awkward. Arthur had pulled on jeans and a shirt and slicked his hair back with tap water and he’d looked so damn young. Eames is the guy who comes to your party and seduces you and leaves you sorry you ever met him. He’s nobody’s anything. So yeah, this time around he left before Arthur woke up but it wasn't a big deal. The job they’d just completed was all gunshots and running and they were pumped so it was bound to happen, they were destined to end up in bed. That’s all there was to it.

Eames smiles to himself, hides it behind a swig of beer before anyone notices. He just can’t believe that Arthur is still running illegal extraction jobs; after Cobb was cleared he just assumed Arthur would disappear back into his old life. He never imagined that old stick in the mud could be so much fun. Sometimes, when he lies in bed at night, he fantasises about asking Arthur to come and run a job with him in Mombasa. He can see it all, Arthur ready to go to his hotel and Eames taking him home instead. Arthur would miss the significance of being allowed into Eames’ personal space so it would be easy. It would be hot so Arthur would be barefoot and he’d take off his tie; Eames could use it to knot his wrists together. Arthur would look so lovely stretched out, pale and sweet on his bed. 

Eames glances over at the waiter again and this time the man notices and smiles. He’s serving a table of beautiful girls and one of them fixates on Eames’ lips, unconsciously spreading her legs a little and breathing high in her chest making her breasts rise and fall provocatively. He often has this effect on women which can be handy when he’s hoping to rob them blind but otherwise they don’t interest him in the least. Arthur, of course, appreciates men and women. It hasn't escaped Eames’ notice that he’s mentioned Ariadne more than once.

Either the night is growing cooler of Eames’ blood is. He decides to go to bed, alone.

It’s the middle of the day where Arthur is and he’s writing something in a notebook, he’s not thinking about anything else. Tonight though he’ll sit by the window in his apartment and catch sight of a beautiful girl in her kitchen in the block across the street. He’ll feel a vague sadness at the thought that they are so close and yet they’ll never know each other. On his desk is a sketch of one of Eames’ tattoos, he figures that if he could only understand its meaning maybe he’d know what to say. When the girl across the way disappears into another room, out of sight, Arthur will feel that familiar longing for a more meaningful connection. For something that might last. He’ll take another look at the sketch before he turns out the lights.


End file.
